Touching him
by Floopygirl
Summary: She likes to touch him. SJ shippy fluff.


Title: Touching Him

Rating: Suitable for ages 13+. One teeny reference to sex.

Pairing: S/J

Spoilers: none

Season: Um, Jack's retired. So some time in the deeply hypothetical future

Summary: short, shippy S/J fluff.

Disclaimer: They're still not mine, so stop making me say it

A/N: No beta for this one, so all mistakes are my own. Sil, you were the one who inspired me not to give up fluff – this one is for you :)

* * *

She likes to touch him. 

It sounds silly when she first says it to herself. After years of restraint and boundaries they are finally together, and it would be both sad and ridiculous if she didn't enjoy physical contact with him, now that it's allowed.

At first things were awkward, even though it wasn't as if they'd never touched before. Their arms and hands had brushed at work, they'd huddled beside each other off-world while taking cover from enemy fire, and they'd occasionally shared a tent on overnight missions (though she always preferred to share with Teal'c, because he's easy to be around and doesn't snore). When things got really bad he'd wrap an arm around her shoulders, and life-or-death situations would usually merit a full-on hug. But all that contact was either accidental or initiated by him. She'd been the perfect second-in-command, never asking for anything he didn't offer.

But then he'd retired, and the thing she'd wanted above almost everything else suddenly wasn't wrong anymore. They no longer needed strained silences and awkward body language to express what couldn't be said aloud, and the change was incredible and exhilarating. It was also terrifying. She didn't know how he felt about spontaneous displays of affection – it's not something that comes up in casual conversation – and she didn't want to be a stereotypically clinging girlfriend. She's not exactly a delicate flower, anyway: she can run, shoot and kill with the best of them. Even worse, she enjoys it.

So it took time to get comfortable with him. At first it was easiest to lose her inhibitions in bed, as she explored every inch of his scarred muscles, stroking and teasing him until his back arched and he cried out her name. Gradually things became less new and fraught and urgent, and then came cuddling on the couch and using their bed not just used for sex, but for playing and wrestling.

She can pinpoint the exact moment she lost all her insecurities. They were walking down the street together and he took her hand in his. Strange how holding his hand felt more intimate than sex. She was shaken by a realisation that was at once totally huge and ridiculously simple, so simple that she couldn't believe she hadn't understood before.

Jack O'Neill liked touching her too.

She remembered all the quick kisses he'd dropped on her forehead and the way he liked to smooth her hair out of her face, and realised that the spontaneous touching wasn't all from her to him. He wasn't like any of the other men she'd known in the past, who had saved their displays of affection for whenever they wanted to get her into bed. She should have seen that from the start, instead of wasting precious time holding back and feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Now she touches him every chance she can get. She leans against his back and reads the newspaper over his shoulder, and she wraps her arm around his waist when they're in public. When their overly-affectionate behaviour causes their friends to exchange disgusted looks or avert their eyes, she smiles. And on the rare occasion he's called onto base (he's only summoned in for major crises, so that's every couple of weeks or so) she brushes against his side when they walk together along underground corridors and hopes that no one notices. They probably do, but no one's said anything to her yet and she's not going to stop unless she's made to.

The object of all her cuddlesome fantasies interrupts her reverie by walking in and sitting down next to her, a bowl of popcorn held in one arm. She grabs a handful and leans into his side.

"Have I ever told you that I like touching you?" she asks.

He smiles, and puts an arm around her. "I think it's come up once or twice."

She moves closer and puts her head on his shoulder, so that his chin rests on it. She can feel them touching, from head to toe, and she's happy.


End file.
